AnGeLiCbOrIs
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FWIW, I have never seen a MG suit with a soft lapel roll.
They did it for me. Maybe because I specifically asked for it.
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FWIW, I have never seen a MG suit with a soft lapel roll.
MG is in an industrial area of East Williamsburg (really Bushwick).
Roberta's is great if you can find it. Great pizza, good beer on tap, hot waitresses.
Thanks to all for the responses. Here is how my first visit went, sorry for the long story, I felt like writing:At about 9am on Saturday, I took a cab to Bushwick in Brooklyn, a neighborhood which I was not familiar with at all. Some people suggested to arrange for a car to drive me since it might be hard to find a cab back in what was described to me as a sketchy place, but I got in late the night before and hadn’t made the proper plans. My cab driver had no idea how to get there and made me do some tinkering with his malfunctioning GPS device, so I ended up having to call Martin Greenfield Clothiers to ask for driving directions for my cab driver. The guy on the phone didn’t seem to have much patience for this conversation and after the call I still wasn’t confident I’d ever make it to the first custom-suiting experience of my life.I arrived exactly at 10am at the small green awning hanging from an old building which, like most of the other structures on Varet Street, was covered in graffiti on the outside. The neighborhood wasn’t nearly as rough as I had imagined from my referrals, but I still felt kind of lost as I left my cab. Walking through the entrance, I stood at a landing of a thick, oxidized, metal staircase that had a sign attached to make my way to the reception area on the third floor and see the receptionist for help. After following directions, I walked through an unmarked door into a room that can best be described as “old” and definitely contained no receptionist to speak of. I made my way through a small hallway and turned the corner into a room that finally confirmed that I had arrived at a tailor’s workshop. The wood-floored space was covered with rows of racks of tailored clothing in various stages of production and a few work-desks with what appeared to be ancient sewing machines and tons of cloth on top. On the racks I saw suits, tuxedos, outerwear, a row of what looked like a full set of uniforms, all mixed together in a way that was reminiscent of a dry-cleaner’s rack. An older man approached me and nodded his head but kept walking right by me. I didn’t recognize him from the pictures I had seen so I knew it wasn’t Martin Greenfield, but the measuring tape around his neck and his clothing made me fairly certain that it was Dominic, one of the head tailors. I was approached by a second, younger, man who must have noted my confusion and he asked me if he could help. I introduced myself and told him I had a 10am appointment for a fitting. The man offered me a bagel and coffee and then disappeared behind some racks.A few minutes later, I finally saw a familiar face. Wearing a waistcoat and a tie, Martin Greenfield was looking for me from right outside another room filled with clothing racks that would later be described to me as the “the office” and then again as the “changing room.” He came up to me and introduced himself and then asked me if I was interested in purchasing. I panicked for a second and thought maybe I was about to be a victim of the workshop’s policy of not taking new customers without reference and quickly name-dropped a Style Forum member that had graciously allowed me to use his name at the door if I felt it would help. Greenfield smiled and took me to a table where he kept all his cloth samples. He asked me what kind of suit I was thinking of getting at which point I explained to him that this would be my first custom-suiting experience and would like to start with the basics. I handed him a piece of paper with a list of things I had typed up for my first suit and he looked up, smiled, and said to no one in particular “Hey! He brought a list!” I realize now it might not have been the smartest thing to do, but I was assured that Greenfield had been offering a “new” house cut lately that was more along the lines of what I wanted and that they would be fine with some alterations to it. Here is my list:Jacket: 2-buttoned, double-vented, notch lapels about 3 inches wide, pickstitching, buttonhole on left breast lapel, high lapel gorge, soft shoulders, high armholes, waist suppression, 2 flap pockets, 1 ticket pocket, 1 chest pocket.Trousers: flat-front trousers, natural waist rise, no belt loops (button tabs), minimal break with 2” cuffs, extra set of trousers.Greenfield nodded his head with each point and finally admitted that people usually don’t do this sort of thing and prefer to leave it up to him to decide on these issues but that he liked that I knew what I wanted off the bat. As for the cloth, I mentioned that I had been told he had a preference for first-timers: a cashmere/wool blend that was known to be durable and drape very well. He picked up said cloth book and I told him I was looking for solids, either navy or medium gray. He admitted he thought a plain navy was boring and highly recommended a very faint shadow-stripe in the same fabric for the navy and a plain for the medium-gray. I decided on the latter for my suit, to which he responded “OK, he’s getting these two suits!” So I was now getting two suits. I asked how much they were and someone who was later introduced to me as one of his sons said “$1,400 for the suit, $375 for the extra trousers.”The fitting started with Dominic joining us and Martin telling him that I had brought a list, which I’m pretty sure Dominic didn’t care for and didn’t look at once. They agreed that I was to have the “new model” and brought out a ready-made version of it to try on me. Martin picked and prodded, put it back on the rack, and brought out his tape. He started with the chest measurement. “Should be about 39” right?” I asked. He quickly responded that it’s always the guys who work out that know exactly what their chest measurements are cause they’re always double-checking it in the gym. He grabbed me around the bicep and jokingly said I was doing OK, he thought.The upper-body measurements I remember were chest, shoulders (point-to-point), biceps, both arm lengths (he pointed out that my right arm hung lower than my left and that my right shoulder was turned inward a bit more than the left as well) diagonally across the body, waist, half-half waist, and length of torso. Most of the measurements he could call out before applying the tape and he was always spot-on just eyeballing. Dominic wrote down all the measurements and brought the completed jacket off the rack and had me put it on again. I asked about the shoulders (Martin said he had already thought of that) and the armhole, which Martin said he’d bring up a quarter inch, just eyeballing again. He quickly announced that the jacket had to be lengthened 3/4 of an inch and then took it off me. That was that.On to the trousers: I had to go change in the aforementioned door-less room that Martin called his office/dressing room. The walls were covered with newspaper articles on Greenfield and the various celebrities and politicians that he has dressed over the years. Colin Powell, Bill Clinton, etc. etc. I later found out President Obama had just been fitted a few weeks before and would soon start breaking in his own Greenfield suits as well. Martin had me put on a ready-made size 34, even though I wear a 32, because he thought it would look better on my heavy-set legs. He was right. I stepped onto the riser for my measurements and Martin saw my cordovan longwings and quipped to Dominic “Well he certainly doesn’t need shoes!” He took my waist measurements again, my seat, and a basic outseam necessary for the first fitting. Dominic, still ignoring my list, which made me feel a little nervous, asked if I wanted pleats. “No sir,” I said. “OK, so no pleats. Low rise?” Yikes. At this point I realized why so many people had said that these tailors can be “difficult” to deal with and that I had to “impose” my wishes somewhat. In no way are they unfriendly or not trying to listen to the customer. It’s just a reality that they’ve been doing this for 60+ years and they’re not very impressed by the 24-year old with his list of requirements for his very first suit. They’re going to do what looks right to them based on experience and what they’re looking at right in front of them, not based on what you think will look right because you read it on Styleforum. It’s also a reality that both Martin and Dominic are older gentlemen who may miss certain things in conversation/exchanges here and there simply because they may have lost a step in certain ways. It all makes sense, even though it can be a tough pill to swallow when you’re spending $1,750 on each custom suit and you feel you should have full control in a day when “the customer is ALWAYS right” is a law most retailers live and die by.After the fitting, Martin and I chatted for a bit. Where I was in town from (Miami), where I was originally from (Curacao, a small island in the Caribbean); Martin said he’d vacationed there for two weeks some years ago and had loved it and was excited to know his suits would be worn there again soon. At this point, a good amount of people started coming in for the 10:30 appointments so Martin said goodbye to me and told me they’d call me in five weeks. I walked over to pay (no plastic, cheques or cash only) and was given a hand-written carbon-copy receipt and I was on my way.I’m definitely happy with how things went my first time around. Martin was a real gentleman and a class act and made things much easier for me as I was admittedly pretty nervous and awkward. It probably helped that they didn’t ask for my opinion on everything on my list as they clearly know best and I didn’t want to mess things up, though I see how some people could have certain issues at that stage of the process. I know next time I’ll be more comfortable and will have a better idea of how to voice my wishes and manage the fitting process. And hopefully again better the time after that and the time after that, etc. For now, I’ll wait anxiously to see them again in six weeks.
Erotic vampire fan-fiction tbh.
Any sense how Greenfield compares with Ercole? Or CEGO for shirts?